


And They Were Roommates

by EnglishPlant



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Roommates, Slow Burn, tagged as M for swearing and future sexual content, zukka - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishPlant/pseuds/EnglishPlant
Summary: Sokka and Zuko expected their first semester of grad school to be difficult. Between teaching classes to keep their stipend, and trying to keep up with the advanced course load, neither really thought they'd end up caring much who they roomed with. They couldn't have been more wrong. Slow burn roommates to lovers.(Will feature other cannon characters: Aang, Katara, Toph, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee, Azula, Iroh, and more)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), zukka
Comments: 45
Kudos: 234





	1. Moving In

“This is so much nicer than your dorm!” Katara shifted the box of snacks on her hip and looked around the apartment.

Though a little institutional upon first glance, the graduate student housing on campus was considerably better than the dorm Sokka had lived in the past four years. Tiled lineloem stretched from from the front door to the back of the apartment. A set of carpeted stairs stretched to the upper level. 

“A little simple, but at least we don’t have to move a couch,” Katara breezed through the so-called living area - a couch and coffee table - and back to the corner of the apartment that could best be described as a kitchenette. Seems Sokka would need to do most of his cooking on the kitchen table tucked into the other back corner. 

“I’m gonna check out the upstairs,” Sokka said, barely waiting for Katara’s reply before he went up the steps. The upstairs landing was barely big enough for two people to stand in comfortably, but there was a small linen closet, a bedroom, bathroom, and then another bedroom. Sokka glanced at the closed door of one of the bedrooms. There hadn’t been any personal effects downstairs, so he assumed his roommate hadn’t moved in, but a show poster from their university’s production of “Love Amongst the Dragons” was taped to the closed bedroom door, so someone must have been here at some point. 

“Can I move in with you?” 

Sokka jumped a bit, he hadn’t heard Katara come upstairs, he laughed as she moved past him and into the open bedroom, admiring the double bed, desk, and dresser that came with the furnished apartment. 

“Getting into the apartments is a rite of passage. You gotta earn it,” Sokka crossed his arms, a smile on his face, “Though if you’re nice to me, you can come visit.” 

“I’m always nice to you,” Katara’s eyes narrowed, placing a hand on her hip. 

“Sokka! Katara!” Aang sing-songed from downstairs, “I brought reinforcements and drinks!” 

“What about food?” Sokka’s stomach grumbled as he went back downstairs to accept a bubble tea from Aang. 

“The tradition is we order pizza after we finish moving,” Suki admonished, a smile on her face as she entered the apartment, looking around. “Wow Sokka, with this place, my house may not be the hang out anymore.” 

“Never!” Sokka said. He adored the three-story house Suki lived in with her foster-sisters and her adoptive mom Kyoshi. 

“Being so close to campus still, we can still spend time at the library and have family dinners!” 

“Katara,” Sokka groaned, “I know your scholarship requires a certain GPA or whatever, but can we get moved in before you color coordinate my planner?” 

“As if you’d let me color coordinate your insane schedule-”

“Guys,” Aang laughed, “Let’s focus on today, okay?” 

They formed an unusual little troupe as they went out the door and headed for the parking spot Sokka had been able to squeeze his ancient pick-up truck into. Suki looked like she had come straight from the gym in her leggings and sports bra, her bobbed hair pulled half up. Aang was in his usual ensemble of red t-shirt and khaki-colored joggers, a ballcap backwards on his bald head, though as they walked, Katara reached out and righted the ballcap. Katara still looked more put together than any of them, as she was wearing an a-line skirt and short-sleeved shirt. Sokka had argued with her on that one, but she maintained she wouldn’t need to do much bending over, and if she needed to then big deal. Sokka was starting to regret his choice of frayed jeans as what was supposed to be an overcast and rainy day was quickly becoming sweltering and sunny, but he could always root through a box of clothes to find shorts. 

Sokka unlocked the back of his beat-up light blue pick-up truck, hopping into the bed, he started handing boxes out. 

Grabbing a box full of what must have been rocks judging by the weight, though the label told him it was dishes, he headed back for the apartment. A few more trips, and some considerable swearing on Suki’s part when they tried to move the overstuffed chair that barely fit through the doorframe. Sokka grabbed from the back of a dumpster freshman year, they managed to get the apartment in some semblance of order. 

“Do you even have a roommate?” Suki asked as she hung up some of Sokka’s shirts in the closet.

“I guess so, though his door’s been closed all day,” Sokka replied. He hunted for the screw driver amongst the piles of packaging as he assembled what would become his bookcase. “I can’t find-” he trailed off. 

“Do you know his name?” Suki giggled, shoving a box of winter clothes to the back of the closet. 

“It’s in the email.” 

“You guys haven’t talked?” 

“It’s a guy thing, we don’t need to be in each other’s business-” Sokka could feel Suki’s gaze though he couldn’t see her. He turned sheepishly, directions in hand. “Not that all girls are like that of course. It’s just, he’s my roommate. We don’t need to be best friends, y’know?” 

“I do know, but it couldn’t hurt to learn his name before he moves in,” Suki moved over to Sokka, picking up the box and locating the screw driver. She handed it to him. 

“He already claimed a bedroom,” Sokka jerked a thumb back at the bedroom door, visible from where they were standing in Sokka’s room. 

“You mean that poster hasn’t just been here?” 

“I thought that was obvious but now I’m starting to doubt myself.” 

Suki giggled as Sokka’s face screwed up in confusion and he looked back at the door, “There’s one way to find out.” Sokka crossed the landing. He peered down the stairs a moment, then glanced under his roommate’s door. It was difficult to tell if anyone was in there, but based on the fact there had been no sound for hours, he doubted anyone was there. Sokka knocked twice, then waited, hand on the doorknob. Hearing no response for what Sokka deemed an acceptable amount of time, he opened the door. 

“Anything?” Suki asked. 

“I guess he was here?” Sokka looked around. The bed was made, black sheets with a red duvet. A stack of books had been left on the desk, and a bamboo plant sat in the window, but aside from that, the room was bare. It seemed his roommate had shoved the dresser in the closet, and its absence made the room seem even emptier. 

“Maybe he’s moving in fully later,” Suki said, observing the room. 

“That, or my new roommate is a sociopath,” Sokka shut the door. 

Together, Suki and Sokka finished setting up his bedroom as Katara and Aang tackled the downstairs. Katara explained they left a few things packed in case Sokka’s roommate had stuff, but it was starting to look more like a home and less like a cinder-block cell. 

“Thanks team! Let’s celebrate with pizza!” Sokka pulled out his phone to order. 

“You’re buying, right?” Aang piped up. 

Sokka gave him a look. 

“I spent what I had on the Bubble Tea.”

Katara gave him a concerned look at that admission.

“What? There’s a reason I’m philosophy and not finance,” Aang shrugged, unconcerned. 

“I got the pizza, Aang,” Sokka assured him, “Does anyone know when Toph gets done teaching her Hung Gar class?” 

“I think five,” Suki glanced at the clock, “I’ll give her a call.” 

The little apartment felt crowded with all five of them gathered around the small kitchen table, Aang and Katara sharing a seat, but Sokka wouldn’t have it any other way as they talked and laughed their way through two large pizzas. 

“Wow Sokka, this place is great. I really like the decorations,” Toph intoned as she finished her third slice of pizza. Badger, her seeing eye dog seemed pretty interested in the stove, and was sniffing around the warming tray. 

Sokka snorted, “Listen, you know I have impeccable taste.” 

Toph punched him lightly in the arm, “Sure you do. What about your roommate? Describe it.” 

“He, uh, actually hasn’t moved in yet.” 

Toph’s gray eyes blinked slowly, “Huh. I knew I liked him more than you.” 

Katara laughed. She laughed harder when Sokka leveled a glare at her. 

Though he loved spending time with his friends, Sokka was a little relieved when Suki agreed to take everyone home. Katara was currently staying with Suki while they waited for the dorms to open. Aang lived not far from campus with Gyatso, who taught some upper level philosophy and religion classes, while Toph had her own apartment. 

He sank down onto the armchair, looking around the apartment. Right now it seemed very . . . him. A blue area rug with a subtle wave design nearly stretched the length of the living room area, television set up with a gaming console, his dishes already drying in a rack next to the sink. 

With Haru it hadn’t been a problem Sokka had most of the stuff, he was so chill Sokka could have taken over the whole dorm and he wouldn’t have cared. It bummed him out Haru wasn’t his roommate, but his program was only four years, and he had zero interest in grad school. While he promised to keep in touch, it had been a few weeks since they’d talked. Sokka wasn’t overly concerned about his friendship with Haru, but he was a little nervous about a new roommate, despite his earlier words to Suki. 

He shook his head, grabbing the remote for the tv and his console controller. He was midway through a round when the door opened. Sokka looked over in interest as his presumable roommate entered. 

The man wore a dark bomber jacket over an asymmetrically hemmed shirt, slim jeans, and a pair of worn combat boots. His hair was short, dark, rather jagged, and fell in an effortlessly cool way. Sokka envied that, there was a reason his hair was usually pulled back. He realized the man was looking at him. 

“Uh,” his voice was quiet, rather raspy. 

“Hey,” Sokka paused his game, looking back at the man, “I’m Sokka.” 

“Zuko,” the dark-haired man stepped out of the entryway and into the apartment. Sokka’s eyes swept over him, taking in the chipped dark nailpolish on blunt nails, the willowy build, and golden eyes. He was oblivious to the way Zuko was also looking at him. 

Zuko cleared his throat, “I have somet things to bring in, if you don’t mind me making noise.” 

He stood a bit back, face still partially obscured by the shadows from the entryway. 

It was then Sokka noticed the scar that took up a significant portion of Zuko’s face. Dark and rather mottled, it wrapped around his head from eye socket to hairline, over his browbone and down onto his cheek. Sokka noticed Zuko’s left eye didn’t open fully because of the scarred flesh. Shit. Zuko probably thought he was staring at that. 

“I can help you bring stuff in,” Sokka offered. 

“Thanks, but I have help.” 

“Many hands make light work,” Sokka quipped. He hadn’t yet decided if he thought Zuko’s clothes were cool or pretentious, but he definitely wanted to know more.

Zuko didn’t directly say no, so when he turned and walked back to the parking lot, Sokka followed. A woman who, Sokka knew without even talking to, was cooler than he would ever be, leaned against the hood of a black hatchback style car. She wore a dark turtleneck, faded gray shorts over black leggings, and a pair of combat boots that looked a lot like the ones Zuko was wearing. She quirked a thin eyebrow, but didn’t say anything to him as she pushed off the hood of the car and went to the trunk where Zuko seemed to be rummaging around. Sokka felt his breath catch as she moved past him, her dark hair seemed to shine even in the awful light of the parking lot. It absolutely figured his hot roommate would have a hot girlfriend. He didn’t have long to dwell on that admission as he heard the woman speak. 

“This your roommate?” Her voice sounded flat. 

“Mai, this is Sokka,” Zuko handed Mai a laundry basket full of neatly-folded clothes. 

“Pleasure,” Sokka remained friendly, though if she stepped on him he’d probably say ‘thank you.’ 

“Are you serious about helping?” 

“Huh? Yeah, dude, I came out here, didn’t I?” Sokka seemed surprised by Zuko’s question, and helpfully took the stacked boxes Zuko offered him. He noticed there wasn’t much in Zuko’s car, but didn’t comment. He knew what it was like to not have much. 

Though there was only three of them it only took one more trip to move everything from Zuko’s car to the apartment. Zuko explained his uncle was stopping by that weekend with the rest of his stuff, but he wanted to be at least partially moved in before they had to start work and classes. Sokka nodded, and put things where he was told. Mai didn’t speak at all. 

As they unpacked, Sokka began to get a sense of who his roommate was. Zuko and Mai moved effortlessly around each other, and with familiarity, but didn’t speak much. Zuko’s taste could best be described as simple but elegant. He shuffled through the boxes on Zuko’s bed, searching for the poster tack Mai said she packed to hang Zuko’s posters. 

“I don’t see it,” he moved aside some books, a stapler, a bag of what felt like colored pencils, and came out empty handed. “Did you put it in here?” he reached for what looked like a large poster tube. 

“Don’t touch that!” 

Sokka froze in surprise, he looked over at Zuko. 

“There’s.. Unfinished work in there,” Zuko stumbled over his words. 

Sokka missed the way Mai hid her face in a delicate hand at Zuko’s reply. 

“You’re an artist?” Sokka asked curiously. 

“It’s a hobby.” 

Sokka watched a blush spread across Zuko’s pale cheeks. He took his hand back and went to another box, “I’ll check somewhere else.” 

They made short work of Zuko’s things, and as Mai and Zuko headed back out the door so Zuko could drive her home, Zuko hesitated a moment, watching as Sokka sat back down on the couch to continue his game. 

“Sokka?” 

“Mm?” 

“Thank you.”


	2. I made coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Sokka might have a crush on his roommate, but Zuko is objectively hot, okay? He's also got a girlfriend, probably. And Sokka doesn't even know him that well, but spirits, does he want to.

Sokka’s circadian rhythm had perfectly adapted to college life. Already more of a night person than an early riser to begin with, he took the culture of staying up until 2am and wake up mid-to- late morning in stride. Normally he’d be up later, but he was tired from move in. He locked the front door around 1:30 when he trudged upstairs to be, assuming Zuko had spent the night at his girlfriend’s place. 

The grad student apartment complex was much quieter than any of the dorms he had lived in, and he had little qualms about opening the window and drifting off to the soft sounds of a late summer breeze and the occasional passing car. 

He woke briefly in the early morning when the bathroom pipes rattled to life directly behind his bed. He was momentarily surprised, rubbing an eye with the palm of his hand, trying to figure out who could be showering at this ungodly hour. It was then snippets of a soft but clear voice, singing a song Sokka had never heard of floated to him above the sound of the running water. 

So his new roommate was an early riser, and a shower-singer. Fantastic. Sokka should be more upset by this knowledge, but as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he found he didn’t mind the sound of Zuko’s voice. He wouldn’t describe it as pleasant, but it was definitely good. The rough quality to Zuko’s speaking voice translated well to singing, it gave him an emotional sound. Sokka found himself straining to hear more. He drifted back off to sleep. 

When Sokka awoke for real, hours later, he stumbled downstairs, toothbrush in his mouth to start a pot of coffee. He paused just off the landing as he noticed Zuko had set up shop at the kitchen table. He was wearing a college sweatshirt and shorts, judging by the folded bare leg Sokka could see as Zuko sat in a rather unconventional manner at the table. 

Zuko felt Sokka’s gaze and looked up from his laptop, “Uh, morning.” 

Sokka took the toothbrush out of his mouth. He attempted a similar greeting without spitting toothpaste on himself. 

“I made coffee; I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, dude, that’s great! One less thing for me to worry about,” Sokka grinned. 

Zuko nodded and went back to work. Sokka went upstairs. So this wasn’t the most awkward situation in the world. That was good. He finished brushing his teeth and showered himself. He grabbed his planner, a cup of pens, and his laptop before he went back downstairs. 

“Feel free to use anything in the kitchen as long as you don’t, like, break it,” Sokka set his supplies down before he poured himself a cup of coffee. When no reply came from Zuko he looked over and realized the other man was looking at him rather worriedly. “No! I’m serious. Especially since it’s gonna be a few days until you get the rest of your stuff. I’m a pretty chill roommate, that’s what my last roommate said.” 

Sokka watched as Zuko seemed to relax a little bit at that explanation; he nodded, going back to his laptop. Not much of a talker, then. 

“What are you working on?” Sokka rummaged through the cupboards to find where Katara stored the cereal. 

“First day of class,” Zuko opened the textbook next to him and flipped through several pages. 

“Are you teaching any?” Sokka was immune to the slightly exasperated look Zuko gave him, he faced similar reactions for much of his life. 

“Intro to Poli Sci. It’s what they stick the grad students with so professors can hold a captive audience with their special interest class.” 

Sokka laughed, “Oh man, that’s so true. I specialized in creative writing, and they have me as a writing 100 grad assistant. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve written a rhetorical analysis?” 

Zuko looked at him as if to say he did, in fact, not know how long it had been since Sokka had written a rhetorical analysis. 

“Since freshman writing!” Sokka set his bowl of cereal down next to his cup of coffee and pulled out his planner. He was ridiculously proud of this planner, broken down hourly, he had already blocked off his classes, the class he was teaching, office hours, and time to work on his portfolio. All had been color coordinated. It was a thing of beauty. 

“You’re a creative writer?” Zuko asked hesitantly, glancing at the planner. He hadn’t met anyone so organized, and what he knew of writer’s wasn’t lining up with neat planner and pad of sticky notes ready for labeling. He supposed his sister was this way, but he couldn’t really see her carrying around a paper planner. She was more the expensive electronic watch type. 

“I specialize in poetry,” Sokka looked at Zuko. He could give two shits about what other people thought about his profession, but he learned over the years that he could tell a lot about a person based on their reaction. 

“Anything I would recognize?” 

Sokka blinked in surprise, then laughed, “I’m not like- _published,_ published. I have some poems in undergraduate journals, but I don’t think I’d call myself mainstream, yet.” 

“Oh,” Zuko seemed taken aback, a little embarrassed. He felt his cheeks burn. Way to sound like an idiot, Zuko. Way to insult- had he insulted him? He managed to look back at Sokka who was looking at him with those ocean-blue eyes. They had looked like pieces of a sky last night, and made Zuko quieter than usual last night. Mai had teased him about it. Zuko couldn’t help it, they were captivating, and they were staring right at him. 

“It’s kind of a weird field to learn about if you’re not in it. Are you political science then?” Sokka asked kindly. 

“Focusing on international relations,” Zuko said. 

“You want to be a politician?” 

Zuko paused. Did Sokka not know who he was? It would be difficult to not find a tabloid that had speculated about Ambassador Ozai’s son’s tragic accident, or even a news station that hadn’t covered something about his Father and his family, but that had been over a decade ago, and Zuko had since fallen from the public eye. “Maybe someday,” he said softly, “I just want to make things better.” 

“An idealist.” 

Sokka’s response surprised him. 

“Not really, there are things that need to change and someone needs to change them,” Zuko said. He didn’t think of himself as an idealist. He paused, “Why are you smiling?” 

“You made it all the way through an undergraduate degree in political science and you don’t see why I’m surprised.”

“No.” 

“I took one history class and wanted to die.” 

“Who’d you have it with?” 

Sokka laughed, “What?” 

“Was it Jeong Jeong?” Zuko picked up his coffee and took a sip. 

“I think so?” Sokka wracked his brain, it had been a few years ago by this point. 

“He’s all gloom and doom. We can wallow in our past or we can use the past to fix the future,” Zuko got up and poured more coffee into his cup. 

Sokka smiled, “You’re ready to take on the world.” Zuko wasn’t what he had expected, someone so seemingly shy and quiet had chosen such a public field, and had such strong convictions about it. A line floated to the front of Sokka’s conscious _fire burns behind quiet eyes_ He shook his head, bad idea to start writing about your roommate. Little creepy. 

“First I have to take on this awful powerpoint they want me to lecture from.” 

Sokka snickered, “Tell me about it.” 

They worked in silence awhile. Sokka went through the syllabus the department sent him, and started refreshing himself on the types of essays he’d need to teach. Zuko seemed intent on changing the black and white powerpoint into something freshmen might want to look at. Eventually, Sokka’s phone lit up with group chat notifications. 

Aang wanted to know when they were going to go longboarding; Toph replied only if they put her on one and let Badger lead. Katara messaged him privately about a financial aid question, and Suki wanted to know if Sokka’s roommate was cute. He put his work down a moment to respond. Katara’s question was easy, he just sent her the link the financial aide office. Suki’s required a little more thought. 

**Suki:** meet your roomie? Is he cute? 

**Sock-a:** met him. He’s

Sokka paused, looked over at Zuko who was holding his coffee cup with both hands, staring intently at a page in the textbook. Sokka glanced back at his phone. He sent a fire emoji, ignoring the little twist in his gut. Objectively, Zuko was hot, so why did Sokka feel like he was admitting something private by saying that? 

**Suki:** !! invite him to hang with us today! 

That wasn’t a bad idea. He wouldn’t mind getting to know Zuko more. 

“Hey, Zuko, my friends and I are gonna go longboarding today, wanna come?” 

Zuko looked at him in surprise. “Oh, I’m- I, sorry- I have to help my uncle today.” 

It was a gentle no, and seemed like a valid one, but it still made Sokka’s heart sink, “No problem. Next time.” he smiled. 

Zuko’s head tilted slightly as he processed this. “Next time.” 

The apartment felt empty when Zuko left to go help his uncle with whatever it was he needed help with. Zuko hadn’t been specific, and Sokka didn’t want to pry. Luckily, Sokka didn’t have much time to kill before he met the gang at the park. 

“So, your roommate. What’s he like?” Suki asked they sat on a swingset meant for kids and watched the others play fetch with Badger. She laughed as Toph got the ball and managed to throw it directly at Aang who yelped as 75 pounds of guide-dog ran at him. “Think fast, twinkle-toes!” Toph cackled. 

Sokka laughed, watching the scene unfold. He pushed back in the swing a bit, rocking forward a little, deflecting, “He seems cool. He showed up pretty late last night, but he was up at an _awful_ hour this morning.” 

“You said he was hot,” Suki smirked, cutting through Sokka’s bullshit like she always did. 

Sokka deflated, “Like- objectively- he totally is. He’s tall and lean, and has these bright amber-y eyes and this jet-black hair and his clothes are cool, but you talk to him and he’s-” Sokka fished for the right word, “Surprisingly sweet? He said he chose his program because he wants to make things better, and he didn’t come this afternoon because he was helping his Uncle. And he’s funny?” He trailed off. 

Suki stared at him a moment. 

“What?” 

“You totally like him.” 

“He’s my roommate!” Sokka blustered, “Aren’t we supposed to sort of get along?” 

“You got all poetic describing him, you totally have a crush on him,” Suki teased. She’d back off if she saw Sokka was truly upset, but right now he was all bluster. 

“I’ve known him for like, a max of four hours.” 

“So? You fall fast Sokka, and hard.” Suki would know. 

“He has a girlfriend, so I don’t even need to worry about it. Some art student named Mai.” 

“You’re not really denying it.” 

“It’s barely a crush. I have an attractive roommate, so what? What’s the worst that could happen.”


	3. Groceries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka desperately wants to learn more about his mysterious roommate, but Zuko is reticent to talk about himself.

It turns out Sokka didn’t have much time to worry about his slight crush on his new roommate as he barely saw him in the days leading up to the start of the semester. Between helping Katara move into her new dorm room -- single unit, she wanted a quiet place to study -- and rushing off to department meetings and mandatory employee training, he was barely at the apartment. Even when he was there, his seminar professor wanted them to have read four chapbooks, and that was just the start of his coursework, so he spent more time reading than just lounging about. It seemed Zuko was similarly occupied. 

The two had laid out a few ground rules, warn the other if there would be company, replace whatever you ate if it was someone else’s, rotate who cleaned the bathroom and the main living space, but so far there hadn’t been any issues. Zuko seemed to be fastidious by nature, and Sokka was pretty good at keeping his stuff contained to his areas of living. It also helped they were both rarely home to get anything dirty. Sokka pretty much knew his apartment would be the hangout spot once the semester started, but he hoped he and Zuko would be friendly enough by then he wouldn’t mind. 

Sokka was stretched out on the couch, a recycled journal from Toph spread open on his lap, a pen in the other. He wanted to get a head start on some poems before classes. Even if the work didn’t fit the prompt, it’s possible he would stumble on a good combination of words, or hit a theme he could run with for his portfolio. 

He had a few lines written down, some doodles, and a list of words he currently found fascinating, but nothing stood out to him. It was all rubbish, nothing worthy of a poem. Sokka scrubbed a hand over his face, fingers brushing over his stubble. His thoughts kept returning to Zuko, wondering where he was, how he was doing, if he was just as nervous about the start of the semester as he was. That was someone he could write poetry about, enigmatic and beautiful. Sokka groaned. Writing poetry about his roommate was a supremely bad idea, but if it got rid of the writer’s block no one ever need know he wrote anything. He thought a moment. 

_roasted coffee, percolates,  
Smell rises steadily _

_Like him at dawn  
Amber eyes _

_Like sun’s golden rays  
Peering over the horizon _

_Hands grasp ceramic cup  
Warmth of day _

Sokka stared at the words on the journal page. He sighed. It figured the clearest writing he had all day was this. He wouldn’t call it poetry per se, but it was a start. He circled the words he liked, crossed a few out. Tapping his pen to his lips, Sokka was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the door open. 

“I don’t know how you got this number, but I suggest you lose it.” Zuko’s voice was harsh and filled with anger as he tossed his jacket at the coat-rack. 

The volume - near a shout - was enough to break Sokka from his reverie. Sokka felt a slight panic settle in his chest at how angry his roommate looked, face twisted into an ugly snarl, his free hand clenched tightly. 

“Why don’t you call your source back, and ask for a quote from them?” Zuko paused. He barked a laugh at whatever the person on the other end of the call said, “If you call this number again I will have you reported for harassment.” 

There was a brief pause. 

“I’ll see _you_ in court!” 

Zuko shoved his phone in his pocket, ran trembling hands through his hair, his breath sporadic. He sank to the floor, legs drawn to his chest. 

Sokka wanted to sink into the couch and disappear when Zuko looked over and realized he was there. Anger, and a little bit of fear were present in Zuko’s tired eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Sokka asked weakly, not even sure where to start with this turn of events. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko said stiffly, getting up. A hand grabbed the banister like he was going to go upstairs. 

Sokka was loosing him “Wait-” he sat up, turned, and planted his feet on the floor. 

Zuko paused, turned. He quirked his, well, singular eyebrow. 

“I was gonna go grocery shopping, if you want to come,” When Sokka was upset he needed action. Maybe Zuko needed the same. He kept his eyes on Zuko, watching as several emotions flickered over the man’s face before settling on confused. 

“You’re inviting me to get-” Zuko paused, “groceries.” 

“Well, don’t think too hard about it,” Sokka said lightly. He waited as Zuko thought. 

“I- sure. I need a few things too.” 

Sokka breathed a small sigh of relief as he saw Zuko’s shoulders drop, residual anger dissipating from his tense form. Sokka scurried to get ready, slipping on a pair of worn tennis shoes and grabbing his keys from the half of the coatrack he had claimed. 

The sun beat down oppressively overhead. There was a stillness in the air, and it made the plaintive calling of cicadas hang heavy. The interior of Sokka’s truck was too hot to sit in comfortably, so they stood in the parking lot a moment, doors opened to allow the hot air a place to go. 

“Do you wanna t-” Sokka hadn’t even got the word ‘talk’ out before Zuko interrupted him with a brusque _no._ Sokka blinked. Fair enough, they didn’t know each other all that well, but the response did little to dampen his curiosity. 

“Your class prep going well?” Sokka tried a new tactic. 

“Yes.” 

Sokka looked over at him, “You gonna tell me more, or-?” he trailed off. 

Zuko looked at him surprise. No one was ever this interested in anything he had to say. Well, he should rephrase, no one his age was ever this interested. Uncle always listened, but Mai often said she hadn’t asked for his life story when he gave too much detail, and he didn’t have many friends outside of her that he would want to talk to. Why was Sokka asking? Small talk was worse than getting-to-know-you-talk. Zuko could do without this line of questioning, really any line, but there was something about Sokka’s infectious enthusiasm and bright eyes that wormed past his usual ability to shut people out.

Sokka could see the gears turning in Zuko’s head as he worked his way through whatever it was he had against normal conversation. He grinned, “I get you’ve got this whole cryptic-loner thing going on, but-” 

“Cryptic-loner- I do not!” Zuko interrupted Sokka. He crossed his eyes, watching unamused as Sokka climbed into the driver’s seat. 

“Sure you do.” Teasing Zuko was too much fun, especially with how flustered he got. Though, Sokka remembered the anger in his roommate’s eyes from earlier, he wanted to avoid that reaction, but it seemed Zuko didn’t mind all Sokka’s ribbing all that much as he did climb into the passenger seat of the truck. 

“My week has been fine,” Zuko said stiffly. He thought about the lecture preparations he had done, the talks he had with his advisor about his thesis, the hours he had spent with his uncle repainting the interior of the Jasmine Dragon, yet struggled to put anything to words. What would Sokka want to hear? “Do you like tea?” Zuko frowned a bit at himself for asking such a stupid question. Sokka seemed surprised. 

“I’m more of a coffee person, but I do enjoy iced tea. I will go to great lengths for a good chai latte,” Sokka hummed at the thought. “Why do you ask?” 

“My Uncle runs the Jasmine Dragon. I’ve been helping him repaint in preparation for the school year.” 

Sokka glanced at Zuko in surprise. The Jasmine Dragon was one of the most popular hangouts. Just off of campus, it boasted a wide menu of teas that were all prepared to perfection. Even among the professors it was popular. It was a common date spot as well. Sokka had only been in a few times, but he had always enjoyed what he ordered. He struggled to conjure up an image of the elderly man who ran the shop. All he could remember was his soft smile and easy laugh. It seemed far-fetched that man was Zuko’s uncle. 

“Huh,” Sokka offered as a response. He hoped Zuko might explain a little more. 

“I get free tea there, so if you ever, uhm, want a chai-” Zuko ran a hand through his hair a little awkwardly. He felt a bit flustered. 

“I’ll hit you up,” Sokka grinned. It seemed Zuko needed more direct questions, “Are you close with your uncle then?” 

Zuko nodded, “Very. He took me in when my father kicked me out.” 

“He what?” Sokka asked, rather alarmed. 

“It turned out well for uncle, he needed someone to help him get the shop off the ground. Having family work helped him make a profit-” Zuko was oblivious. 

“Your father kicked you out? Why?” 

Zuko’s jaw tightened, “He’s not a good person.” There was a note of finality in his voice, so Sokka dropped it, but he had infinitely more questions now than earlier, and he had quite a few then too. Silence fell as they idled at a red light. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said after a moment. 

“What do you have to be sorry for? I’m the one who keeps nosing around,” Sokka looked over at him. Their eyes met, and Sokka felt rather pinned by the look Zuko was giving him. His expression was soft, uncertain, and there was a vulnerability in his eyes. As Sokka watched, Zuko’s lips parted and someone behind them honked. “Shit,” Sokka hurriedly hit the gas. He hadn’t been paying attention to the light. 

Whatever Zuko was going to say was quickly forgotten as he looked out the window. Sokka pulled into the parking lot. 

“I just need a few things if you want to tag along with me. We can always divide our stuff when we checkout,” Sokka said easily. This was the system he and Suki used while shopping. Zuko nodded his assent, and the two were soon grateful for the frigid air-conditioning of the store. 

They chatted aimlessly about mundane things. Zuko hated gendered packaging as much as Sokka did. Sokka liked milk chocolate. Zuko preferred dark. They wove their way in and out of the aisles in no particular hurry. Sokka was having a good time, he would dare to say Zuko was even enjoying himself too, walking alongside the cart and tossing in a pack of granola bars and other miscellaneous items. 

The cashier flirted with Sokka as he set his groceries on the little conveyer belt. Sokka flirted back, it’s harmless, and she was cute. A smile was still on his lips as he moved the bags of groceries back into the cart. 

He didn’t miss the stillness that fell over the cashier’s easy chatter as she took care of the few items Zuko picked up. Sokka glanced up, noticing the way she stared at the scar on Zuko’s face. He didn’t seem to notice, but Sokka saw the tightness in his hand as Zuko quietly handed her his credit card. 

“Have a nice day,” the girl tried as she handed Zuko his receipt back. 

“You too,” Zuko mumbled, just as quiet as when Sokka first tried to talk to him. 

As they walked back to the truck Sokka tried to broach the subject. Zuko shook his head. 

“I’m used to it.” 

Sokka wanted to tell him that when he looked at Zuko he barely noticed the scar. Sure it was there, and it was kinda hard not to see it, but there was so much more to him than that mark. It was just one part of him, and he had so many other parts Sokka wanted to know. He opened his mouth to say something, but Zuko beat him to it, “At least people get out of my way at the store.” 

It was meant as a joke, but it just made Sokka’s heart ache.


	4. Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of class!   
> Zuko meets the GAang

Sokka could do this. He could totally do this. He’d run through the syllabus four times by reading it to himself in front of the bathroom mirror, and taken notes on all the possible questions students could have. The first assignment was ready to go. All he had to do now was show up and -- his thoughts spiraled at the thought -- teach. 

He was up early, humming with nervous energy. So early, in fact, he caught Zuko as he came back from the 8 am class he taught. 

“Hey! How’d it go?” Sokka asked as Zuko walked back to the little kitchen, lured by the scent of cooked breakfast sausage. 

“You’re up early,” was Zuko’s succinct reply. He would have said more, but the sight of Sokka in a cooking apron and little else - the tanktop and shorts he slept in mostly covered by the fabric - made Zuko think stupid things. Things like how bright Sokka’s eyes were, and how strong his toned arms looked, how broad his shoulders were compared to his waist, and if Zuko asked nicely, would Sokka cook breakfast for him? 

“Zuko, what did I say about answering questions?” Sokka pointed the spatula he was holding at him, mock serious. 

“Class went well. I only stumbled twice. They were all pretty tired,” Zuko’s knee-jerk answer was short, but more detailed than the previous one. He stared at the spatula so he didn’t have to look at Sokka directly. 

Sokka smiled softly at the answer; they were making progress. 

“Your first class is at 11?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka nodded, turning back to the pan, “I know it’s gonna be fine, but I’m a little nervous, honestly.”

He heard Zuko open the fridge and pull out one of the juice bottles he had bought the night before. 

“You’re going to do great. I don’t know why your students wouldn’t love to have you as a teacher.” The compliment came out a bit awkwardly, Zuko’s eyes were focused on the floor, and the end was half-mumbled, but it was sincere, and before Sokka could really piece together that Zuko had just said this precise combination of words, the other man was heading up the stairs. 

Sokka’s class was a breeze. Zuko was right; even though it was syllabus day, the freshman paid attention, and didn’t seem too shocked when he assigned homework. He met Katara outside her colloquy class since he had finished teaching just a few floor below her. 

“How was your first last day of undergrad?” Sokka asked her. 

“I already feel behind and I’ve only had two of my five classes,” she sighed, fixing her ponytail that had fallen a bit throughout the day, though her hair loops looked as pristine as ever. 

“You’ve got this. You just need a little time to fall into the routine and you’ll be fine.” 

Katara smiled softly, not dwelling on the assurance, “How was your day, professor?” 

Sokka laughed, “I like the sound of that, can you always refer to me as professor-” 

“Sokka.” 

“It went well. I think they know I’m the cool GA.” 

Katara rolled her eyes, “They’re in trouble if you’re the cool teacher.” 

Sokka made an affronted sound as he held the door open for Katara. A few more students slipped through as she exited. 

“Got a plan for dinner tonight?” Katara changed the subject.

“There’s some charcoal grills in the courtyard. Figured we could do a picnic, and yes, I picked up some veggie burgers for Aang,” he smiled as Katara opened her mouth to ask. 

Though the high temperatures from the week before had stayed, a cool breeze drifted through campus. Sticking to the shaded sidewalks, the walk back to Sokka’s apartment was surprisingly pleasant. Katara waved to a few people as they walked. Between her extra curriculars and Aang’s popularity, she knew a surprising number of people on campus. 

When they got to the parking lot, Sokka took the key for the apartment off the ring and handed it to Katara, stating he would go round up the others if she wanted to hang out in the meantime. While having Sokka pick up everyone else in his truck was a little inconvenient due to the fact it really only sat three people, they had it down to a system. Suki sat in the middle, Aang at the door, Toph stretched across their laps, and Badger rode in the back. Sokka hummed idly as he went to his truck. 

Zuko heard the front door open and assumed it was Sokka. He had every right to assume it was his roommate, so when he walked downstairs and saw that the person in the kitchen who was rummaging through their cupboards was not Sokka, it surprised him. The young woman, who looked very much like Sokka with her bright blue eyes and pretty brown hair, stood and turned as she felt someone’s eyes on her. She regarded Zuko with an uncertain expression. 

“It’s polite to announce yourself,” she put a hand on one hip, closing the cupboard door. 

Zuko flushed a bit, “Sorry.” 

Katara appraised him with a critical eye. Noted the chipped dark nailpolish, the black turtleneck and jeans he wore even in the oppressive heat.

“I’m Katara, Sokka’s sister,” She offered a hand. She assumed Sokka had told Zuko about her, but she needed to say something, and introductions seemed easy enough. 

Zuko shook it, his hand was warm to the touch, hers was cool. “Nice to meet you. Sokka’s talked a lot about you.” 

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence. 

“Did you need Sokka for something? I can call him if it’s urgent,” Katara attempted to break the ice. 

“No,” Zuko sensed he made her a little uncomfortable, he moved over to the table, sat down, “I just wanted to ask how his class was. He was worried about it.” He noticed Katara seemed to relax a bit as he moved away. 

“He was?” Katara went back to looking for the pack of hamburger buns Sokka claimed he bought. If he was worried about the class he hadn’t told her. She frowned. Sokka told her everything. 

“Nervous tension I think,” Zuko said. He picked up a pen that was on the table, twirled it between his fingers. 

Katara mulled this over, “Have you eaten yet?” 

Zuko shook his head. 

“We’re gonna have a family dinner to celebrate the first day. You should eat with us.” 

To say Sokka was shocked to see Zuko and Katara setting a picnic table in the courtyard was an understatement. He didn’t know why he thought Katara wouldn’t run into Zuko when he gave her the keys. It made sense for Zuko to be home. However, watching them carefully move around the other as Katara set places and Zuko placed an armload of condiments on the table made him smile. 

“Is that him?” Suki whispered, poking Sokka in the side. 

“Yes,” Sokka said. He glanced at her as if to say he hoped she would be discreet. Suki winked, grinned. 

Zuko looked up as Sokka called out a hello and waved. His eyes swept over the gaggle of young adults. 

“Gang, this is Zuko, Zuko this is-” he ran through introductions. 

“Uh, hello,” Zuko waved awkwardly. 

Aang, ever the friendly one, launched into conversation before silence could fall, “Sokka says you’re a poli-sci major, did you take political philosophy with Gyatso?” 

Zuko blinked, “Uhm, yes?” 

“That’s my dad!” Aang beamed. 

Sokka watched as Zuko loosened up under Aang’s stream of positive chatter. Aang was hard not to like, but Zuko seemed to be genuinely enjoying their conversation as they discussed ancient political philosophies Aang had grown up learning, and Zuko apparently knew as well. 

Toph and Zuko discovered they belonged to the same martial arts studio, and while she taught Hung Gar classes, he practiced Northern Shaolin, and had recently begun learning Southern Dragon Claw. 

“Hey, will you show me where the bathroom is?” Toph asked in the middle of their conversation  
“It’s up the stairs, middle door,” Zuko rolled with the abrupt conversation change. 

“No, like, I need you to show me. I’m blind,” Toph said. 

Sokka stopped grilling to watch Zuko’s reaction. He blinked. “Oh, sure, no problem.” He stood, offered Toph an arm, and Sokka swore he saw Toph smile a little as they walked into the apartment. 

“Hey, you’re pretty cool about this,” Toph said as Zuko told her there was a step up into the apartment, “People can get weird when I tell them I’m blind.” 

“I’m legally blind in one eye,” Zuko explained, “Though it’s usually the hearing loss that gets people.” 

Toph snorted, “Let me guess, they shout everything at you like that’ll help?” 

“Yeah,” Zuko grinned. 

“I can’t tell you how many people have asked if I wanted to feel their face. Like no, I don’t know you, and two that’s not really gonna help me.” 

“You don’t want to feel my face anyway, there’s a pretty wicked scar on it.” 

Toph laughed, “I knew I liked you.” 

Suki was the first to snag a prepared burger off the plate Sokka filled as he went through a pack of hotdogs, some homemade burgers, and a pack of vegetarian ones for Aang. 

“Excellent as always, Sokka,” Suki hummed her pleasure as she sat back down at the picnic table. 

Sokka took a seat next to her, bumping their shoulders lightly together, “I take my duties as grill-master seriously.” 

Suki grinned. She swatted his hand as he stole a potato chip from her plate. “Get your own!” 

He took another and then offered it back to her. Suki allowed Sokka to feed her the potato chip, hiding a grin with a hand as it was slightly too big for her mouth and she nearly lost part of it biting down. She giggled as Badger put an eager face on her knee, sensing food. 

“No, you can’t have table scraps, though you’re very cute,” she admonished the dog who laid back down under the table. 

Katara rolled her eyes, but based on the fact her legs were resting in Aang’s lap, she had no room to talk. 

After cleaning up the picnic table mess, Aang produced a rather battered bright blue frisbee. Zuko attempted to slip back inside, assuming he wasn’t wanted, but Sokka waved him over to the circle they had created in the courtyard. 

Toph had Badger at her side, and by calling out the names of who they were passing to, she could follow the game. Badger happily caught the frisbee anytime it was passed to them, and Toph would throw it on. 

Trouble started when Aang started doing tricks to catch the frisbee. Telling Sokka to throw wide, he ran a few steps before flipping forward and over the flying frisbee, reaching out and grabbing it out of the air, he landed on the ground, triumphant. 

Suki whooped, “Nice catch!” 

“Suki!” Aang called and tossed her the frisbee. 

She caught it easily, pretended to wind up like a baseball player and threw it. “Katara!” 

Katara caught the frisbee. “Back at ya!” She spun around, attempting to emulate her friends, but the bright blue frisbee arced wide. 

Zuko’s call of ‘I got it’ clashed with Suki’s. The two collided dead on, and Zuko fell to the ground, Suki on top of him. He hit hard, the air was knocked from his lungs, he gasped, tried to regain his lost breath. 

Suki propped herself up so she wasn’t laying directly on top of his ribs, “Oh my gosh Zuko, are you okay?” she seemed worried. Suki twisted a bit so she could look at Zuko’s face. He looked up at her a moment, stunned. Her eyes tracked the way his hair fell around his head like the puff of a dandelion, the faint blush on his un-scarred cheek. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko surprised himself when he laughed, “Sorry I ran into you.” 

“I ran into you!” 

“Get a room!” Toph shouted from her spot in the courtyard. 

Suki looked over at Toph and stuck out her tongue, then climbed off of Zuko. She offered a hand and he took it, grabbing the frisbee from its place on the grass. He handed it to her. 

“You don’t want to throw it?” Suki looked at the disc. 

“Thank you all for dinner, and the game, but I should go; I usually call my Uncle around this time,” he offered the smallest of smiles and a little wave as he disappeared into the apartment. 

“He’s joining the group, right?” Suki asked after the front door closed. She looked over at Sokka. 

“You guys want him to?” Sokka had watched them all interact throughout the evening. It seemed they all got along pretty well, but none of them really knew Zuko, and he didn’t want to push if anyone had hangups, but the convenience of bringing Zuko into the group wasn’t lost on him. 

“He seems cool,” Aang wandered over, sensing they were done tossing the frisbee. 

“Yeah,” Toph echoed Aang’s sentiment as she moved with Badger to the group. 

Katara shrugged, “I don’t see why not. Plus we’d have an even number then which is always nice.” 

“Trust you to think of logistics,” Toph groaned. 

Aang was going to spend the night at Katara’s dorm, so Sokka ended up needing to take Suki and Toph home in the end. When he got back to the apartment, Zuko was brewing tea with his electric kettle. 

“Hey, thanks for letting me hang out with you all,” he said as Sokka wandered into the kitchen. 

“You don’t have to thank me, dude. You’re welcome to hang out with us anytime. It’d actually be more cool if you did, since everyone has assumed my place is going to be the hangout spot.” Sokka found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Zuko’s lips as his roommate gave a genuine smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I'm going to try and have the next chapter up soon! 
> 
> This chapter feels a little slow? I did say this would be slowburn. . . .


	5. Tyrants will Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka learns how Zuko got his scar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: past child abuse, parent death, environmental racism, ((capitalism??)) 
> 
> This chapter is pretty heavy, but lightens up at the end?

_Water is a Human Right  
Clean Water for River Village _

Sokka stared at the posters and fliers plastered to their front door. He agreed with them, but it seemed a little odd to advertise in this way. Zuko hadn’t mentioned anything about a project, though this seemed like the kind of political action he was talking about. Sokka shrugged, and went into the apartment. 

Zuko was camped out at the kitchen table, a stack of library books taller than he was sitting down stacked next to his laptop, an early iteration of a paper spread out and highlighted before him.   
“You uh, working on a project?” Sokka gestured to the door as Zuko looked up at his entrance. 

“It is one of them.” Zuko looked down at his laptop, fingers paused mid-key stroke. 

“Oh?” Sokka asked when it seemed more information wasn’t forthcoming. He toed off his sneakers. 

“I need to tell you something,” Zuko’s eyes met Sokka’s, but his hands tightened into fists, skin around his knuckles pulling tight. 

“Sounds like it’s important,” Sokka said. He wondered what could have prompted this. Getting Zuko talk about his day was like trying to scrape molasses off a spoon, for Zuko to have this reaction, it must be pretty serious. 

Sokka dropped his bookbag in the overstuffed chair and went over to the kitchen table. He took a seat opposite Zuko, who was steadfastly ignoring his gaze. Sokka studied his roommate, in the short time he had known Zuko he knew the man was high strung, but every inch of the man now radiated tension. His shoulders were hunched, a muscle in his jaw pulsed. Sokka waited patiently. 

“My father runs Sozin Enterprise.” Zuko got straight to the point. His hands dropped to his lap. 

Sokka gaped at him. It took him a moment to find words. “Sozin Enterprise? Like, the conglomo-corporate-business that owns like..half of the government and half the country?” He asked, fragments of information blipping across his stream of consciousness: stealing land from people, forcing workers to work in extreme conditions, unprecedented profits, growth at the cost of personnel, funding legislation against environmental and safety regulations and there, in the forefront, the true cause of the death of his mother. 

It was that company’s mining that polluted the water. The contamination that caused the death   
of so many of his people. Lingering illness in adult, sicknesses that often passed to children. The tribe had known about the pollution, but all attempts to fight the company had been quashed before they reached the court. 

Sokka’s Mom had largely spared him and Katara by keeping them from drinking the water, but it was too late for her. She passed of cancer when they were young, but Sokka had always known what caused it. And the heir to that cause was sitting across from him at the kitchen table.For a moment, his anger spiked. 

Zuko’s nod was short. He didn’t meet Sokka’s eyes. Zuko expected retribution at any moment, for a moment, Sokka was tempted to give it to him. _Did you know what happened? Didn’t you try to stop it?_ As quickly as the anger appeared, it dissipated. It wasn’t Zuko’s fault. He would have been a child, the pollution occurred at least a generation before them. 

The ache of missing his mother, the feeling of long put-off grief pressed down on him and it remained in the wake of Sokka’s temporary anger. The feeling deepened as Zuko refused to look him in the eye. 

Sokka wanted to say so much, but all that came out was a surprised: “how?” 

It made Zuko pause and look back at the other man. “What do you mean, how?” 

“How does your dad run Sozin Enterprise?” 

“My great-grandfather was Sozin, my grandfather Azulon, my father is Ozai, current CEO,” Zuko traced his family lineage. He said it methodically, in a detached manner. 

Sokka studied Zuko a long moment. He tried to reconcile what he knew of the company with what he knew of his roommate. Zuko’s admission came something like a shock. It seemed like any child of the family that owned the company should be driving a sports car and living in one of the nice apartment complexes downtown, not driving a car that was barely younger than Sokka’s and living in university housing. He certainly wouldn’t be worried about needing a stipend from the school, and working shifts at the Jasmine Dragon. He’d probably be concerned only with the success of the company. Someone who relied on nepotism to get him everywhere and had daddy sort out any issues. Zuko was none of those things. 

“Your dad kicked you out?” Sokka asked slowly, remembering their previous conversation, and piecing together why Zuko’s current situation was so different from the one Sokka was currently imagining. 

Zuko nodded tersely. “I’ve been living with my uncle since I was a teenager. I can promise you I don’t condone the actions of my father or the company.” 

Sokka took all this in, attempted to process it. He was friends with the heir to the company that was responsible for so much bad in the world, but Zuko was separate from that. He couldn’t control his family’s past wrongs. Logically, Sokka knew that; it still didn’t make it much easier. 

“So why the signs on the door?” Sokka asked, gesturing vaguely. 

“I’m not exactly hiding. It’s public knowledge I’m Ozai’s son, though he’s done little to remind people of that in recent years. I’m easier to find than he is, and people who don’t know me often assume I must agree with what my father is doing.” 

Sokka completed the thought, “And they target you for what the company is doing.” 

“They have a right to be angry,” Zuko shrugged. He pulled at a loose thread in his jeans. “I’ll leave some of the posters up if you don’t mind.” 

Sokka shook his head, “Not at all, but Zuko, I gotta ask. What happened between you and your dad?” 

Zuko was quite a long moment. Finally, he dragged his eyes up from the tabletop to meet Sokka’s gaze. Sokka fought the urge to squirm as those warm amber eyes traced over his face, looking into his eyes like he could see Sokka’s soul. When it seemed Zuko might not answer at all, he spoke. “Do you promise not to tell anyone, even your sister?” 

Sokka’s mouth felt a bit dry. He swallowed, “Promise.” 

“I wanted nothing more than to please my father as a child,” Zuko said slowly, as if working up the courage to tell Sokka. It had been quite some time since he had needed to. Azula had told Mai, and Uncle was there when it happened, so the only people Zuko cared about knowing had known since it happened. “He allowed me to attend an important meeting, one with the board of directors. It was about a factory he owned. It had barely passed inspection after an earthquake, and repairs needed to be made. They wanted to send the workers back in before the repairs, to make up for the ‘lost profit.’”

Sokka didn’t take his eyes off of Zuko, watching as his roommate carefully chose his words. 

“I was thirteen. I didn’t understand why he would want to send people into an unsafe place. I spoke up, challenged him in front of the board.” 

“He kicked you out of the house for that?” Sokka thought of all the times he had argued with his own father. Of course, it was blatantly obvious Sokka’s relationship with Hakoda was far different from the one Zuko shared with his father, but Sokka couldn’t fathom Hakoda ever kicking him out of the house, let alone for years on end. 

Zuko paused his recitation. When he began again, his eyes bored a hole in the worn tabletop, the fingers of his right hand curled into his palm and pressed deep, “My father was furious.” His left hand went to the scar on his face, fingers brushed over his brow bone. “I had never seen him so angry at me. I.. remember begging him to forgive me, and the gas stove and-” Zuko shuddered, “I woke up in the hospital and Uncle told me I would be staying with him from then on.” 

Sokka felt his stomach drop to the floor. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he fought the urge to gasp in horror at the words that fell from Zuko’s lips. His eyes traced over the scar on Zuko’s face. >em< How could a father do that to his own child? >/em< The thought repeated again and again in his head as he stared at the mark, so cruelly given. 

“What the fuck?” Sokka whispered, “How is he not in jail?” 

Zuko carefully opened his hand -- pale crescent moon indentations in his his palm from clenching so tightly. Zuko shrugged, “He makes problems disappear.” He looked past Sokka as he said it, a muscle in his jaw clenched as he pressed his lips together. 

“And you were one of them,” Sokka said, renewed anger coursing through his veins like an avalanche crashing down a mountain. 

“If I was an issue as a thirteen year old, imagine what I can do now,” a faint smile, like a wolf about to devour its prey, touched Zuko’s lips. 

“What do you mean?” Sokka was pulled from his spiraling anger, jarred by the smile that twisted at Zuko’s lips. 

“I chose a field where I can be the biggest thorn in my father’s side,” Zuko smirked. Though he said the words easily enough, Sokka saw lingering tension in his shoulders. “I won’t be bullied by him any more. I will fix his wrongdoings. I will fight him every step of the way and I will restore honor to my family’s name.” 

Sokka stared at Zuko. He was so self-assured, seconds after admitting something so traumatizing. Sokka had seen this before, in Katara after the death of their mother. Her breakdowns and her subsequent promises to become a doctor, to save other people’s mothers so they would never know her pain. He knew their strength came from their deepest pain, but this constant drive forward wasn’t healing -- he had learned the hard way. Luckily, Suki had been there to pick up the broken pieces of him, and he and Aang and Toph had been their for Katara, but Sokka didn’t know if there was anyone there for Zuko. 

“Zuko--” he tried, attempted to formulate an adequate response. 

“I refuse to be afraid of him. He’s a tyrant, and like any tyrant, he will fall.” Zuko tapped a few keys on his computer, his voice steady. 

Sokka’s thoughts rushed through his mind. He stared at Zuko, a mixture of awe and worry swirled through his chest, making his stomach twist. 

“Sorry for bringing down the mood, but I wanted to tell you before someone else did.”   
There was that vulnerability again, the shyness Sokka knew kept him from being open with people. Zuko was made of curious contradictions it seemed. 

“Zuko, you don’t have to apologize,” Sokka said, he reached across the table, laid a hand on Zuko’s arm. 

Zuko pulled back, “I’m not used to talking about this kind of thing.” 

“I can see how it’s hard to work, ‘hey my dad’s unhinged,’ into a conversation, but you gotta know going into politics someone’s gonna use this against you,” Sokka too his hand back easily, using it to rub a shaved side of his head. 

“I just don’t want it to be something my friend uses against me,” Zuko said quietly. 

Sokka fought the urge to pull Zuko into a bone-crushing hug. “Of course not, and I promise I won’t tell anyone without your permission.” 

Zuko’s smile was fragile, but bright, like the first rays of early morning sun. 

Hours later, Sokka had moved from the kitchen table up to his room. The fan in his window turned on, he paged through the chapbook of poems he head read for class, thinking of what he was going to write for his review. 

When he moved upstairs, Zuko was busy with his paper, but the telltale creak of their stairs told him his roommate was headed to his room. 

Sokka opened his laptop and typed a few lines in so he could reference them later. He straightened his posture, something in his back popped slightly and he sighed in relief. Sokka didn’t bother to outline as he began typing down his impressions of the chapbook. Overall, the poems played with structure, and reading them from a formalist perspective was interesting, but as far as message, Sokka found it to be a bit lacking. He felt a little presumptuous writing a review of a published author, but his professor had asked for an honest review. 

_Visually stunning, the poem relies on the structure to drive its meaning of two souls, once intertwined, falling apart. This is an interesting choice, as most contemporary readers prefer to dive into the words of the poem, as opposed to the structure._

Sokka paused, fingers perched on top of the keys. As he tried to gather his thoughts for the next point he wanted to make, faint music drifted to him. He put his laptop to the side and moved over to the door, opening it a crack as he struggled to put words to the melody. It seemed vaguely musical-theatre-y based on the prose-like nature of the words. Sokka’s head titled as he listened to the music. Eyes closing, he leaned against the doorframe. 

It took him a moment to realize the music was purely instrumental and the voice that went with the lyrics was Zuko’s. A fact he discovered only after one note didn’t hit quite right, and he heard a quiet cough. 

Sokka smiled.


	6. Does she always draw you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka comes home to find Mai drawing Zuko. 
> 
> Zuko realizes he doesn't know that much about Sokka.

“Chin up,” Mai reminded Zuko as she focused on the way the late afternoon sun cast shadows in the subtle dips and hollows of his nearly-naked form. Her lips moved into her subtle, graceful, smile as he quietly obliged, the shift changing the way the light fell across his face, reflecting warmly like sunlight in a pool in his amber eyes. 

Ty Lee was usually Mai’s model of choice. Her gymnast friend’s ability to hold the most impossible positions for the length of time it took to draw allowed Mai to greatly improve her figure drawing, and deepen her understanding of the human form. Ty Lee’s poses spoke of strength and vivacity, of motion. Her energy in real-life was easy to transfer to the page, and Mai had received many complements on her various studies of Ty Lee. 

When subtlety was needed however, she went to Zuko. He carried a quiet sort of elegance beneath his tense exterior, and she prided herself in drawing that out of him. As he lay, one leg bent beneath the other, top leg extended, hand propped in his head, the other loose across his hips, Mai paused her shading and stood, crossed the floor and shifted the silk robe he was wearing slightly so it pooled beneath his shoulder. She had placed him in what might be considered a feminine pose, and she wanted to embrace the softness it created in his usually sharp form. 

He looked at her in silent question: had he done something wrong, but she shook her head, indicating it was her preference. She took a seat and continued. The inside of the apartment was so quiet they could hear the songbirds nesting in the tree in the courtyard, the steady rumble of traffic on a main road a few streets away, and the faint sound of music from the neighboring apartment. Mai liked they didn’t need to fill the silence. She had never been one for idle small-talk. 

As Zuko stared, eyes unfocused, at the posters he and Sokka had tacked to the walls, he remembered feeling extremely awkward the first time Mai had asked him to model. He was so tense she informed him her shitty wooden posable figure could do a better job. She took to sketching him unobtrusively while they were studying, and the small practices warmed him up to the idea for actually sitting for her. By now he was used to it, and he found he always enjoyed the pieces she drew of him. Though they had broken up a few years ago now, she always seemed to present him in a rather romantic light. Azula had criticized them both for it, but Zuko knew his sister didn’t understand the bond between him and Mai. 

Sokka was running through his mental to-do list as he slung his stachel higher on his shoulder and turned onto the sidewalk that would take him across the street and to the grad student apartment complex. He needed to go through the first few discussion board posts for his class, and then read his classmates’ poems for workshop. It was nothing too strenuous. He could probably squeeze in a fitness class with Suki later that evening. Fumbling with his keys a moment, he found the right one and opened the apartment. 

Standing in the entryway, Sokka paused, taking in the scene before him. Zuko’s cool girlfriend -- well, assumed girlfriend -- sat cross-legged on a kitchen chair, a large sketch-book poised in her lap. As always, she looked effortlessly cool even in her simple outfit of cut-off black jeans and a cropped button-up. Sokka could appreciate her beauty, but his gaze was drawn to Zuko who looked absolutely radiant in a red silk robe and what looked to be nothing else. His hair down - a rare sight Sokka was learning - and the way sunlight dappled across Zuko’s skin made Sokka’s eyes trail up and down his roommate’s form. 

“Uh,” Sokka managed, realizing Mai was staring at him, and Zuko’s cheeks were as red as the robe he was wearing. 

“What are you doing back?” Zuko stayed frozen, the knowledge Mai would be upset if he moved outweighed his embarrassment at Sokka seeing him like this, but only just. 

“I live here,” Sokka pointed out, shutting the door. 

“I can go.” Mai went to close the sketchbook. 

“No- no, wait,” Sokka held out a hand, “I’m an artist too!” 

“You are,” Mai’s voice was flat, but the slight quirk of her eyebrow belied her interest. 

“Can I get my sketchbook?”

“Don’t ask me, ask my model.” 

Zuko couldn’t believe Mai was interacting with Sokka. He also couldn’t believe that Sokka was an artist. Sokka couldn’t be handsome, intelligent, a writer, and an artist. It wasn’t fair. All Zuko could do was stammer out a: _sure?_

“Really? This is awesome.” Sokka darted upstairs. When he returned, he found Mai must have moved another chair over for him, as it seemed Zuko was still frozen like a statute. 

“We need to hurry if we want the light to stay,” Mai picked up another pencil out of her pencil container. Sokka noticed one was tucked into the thick bun her hair was pulled up in. 

“Right.” He opened his sketchbook, flipping past a few already filled pages and stopped on a clean one. Sokka pulled a pencil out of the spiral binding and looked over at Zuko. A faint blush dusted his roommate’s skin, and Sokka wished he had a way to capture that accurately as he began sketching. He felt a photograph wouldn’t do him justice. 

Zuko was used to the intensity in Mai’s gaze as she drew, but there was something about having Sokka stare at him with single-minded focus that made Zuko want to draw the robe he was wearing closed. Or drop it altogether. Zuko hadn’t quite decided, and he felt it best to avoid looking at Sokka as his two artist friends continued their work. 

Zuko had nearly slipped back into his rather trance-like state, when Mai set her pencil down and stretched. She looked over at Sokka. “Ready when you are.” 

His tongue protruded slightly from his lips as his brow narrowed in concentration, pencil gliding across the page. “Almost,” he mumbled. The sound of graphite scratching on paper filled the ensuing silence. A few minutes later he tucked his pencil behind his ear. “Ready!” 

Mai turned her sketchbook around to show Sokka. His jaw nearly hit the floor. The detail was exquisite. His eyes traced over her elegant lines and careful shading. “Wow, Mai, that’s beautiful,” he said. 

“Thanks,” She smiled faintly, “Show me yours?” 

Sokka brandished his sketchpad, and only years of training herself not to react kept Mai from laughing. As it stood, her left eyebrow raised faintly as she looked at Sokka’s drawing that she placed as a bizarre combination of cubism and cartoon. She felt a bit bad for wanting to laugh, Sokka had seemed so earnest, but as she glanced from the drawing to Sokka’s face she saw he was grinning. 

“So I’m not really an artist,” He said good-naturedly, “but I do like drawing.” 

“You’re really not that bad,” Mai reached over and took the book, “If you softened the lines, let the nature of sketching being messy guide you, I think it would help.” She gestured. 

Sokka nodded, listening. He accepted the sketchbook as she handed it back to him. 

“I should go,” Mai closed her sketchbook. 

Zuko walked her to the door, gathered his robe around him as he stood. Sokka noted Zuko didn’t even ask to see her drawing. They said a quiet goodbye and then Zuko turned, looking at Sokka. 

“I think Mai likes you,” Zuko almost sounded confused. 

“Likes me? She seemed pretty aloof,” Sokka pushed the kitchen chairs back over to the table. 

“She let you draw with her, and she actually smiled. Mai would have ignored you if she didn’t like you.” 

Sokka beamed, “I have a way with the ladies.” He tried for suave, smoothing a hand over his hair, but Zuko just chuckled. 

“You gonna show me your drawing?” He asked. 

“Nope. Mai’s is way better anyway,” Sokka said. He dropped down on the couch, setting his sketchpad on the coffee table. His eyes were again drawn to Zuko. He sort of wished he had the drawing Mai did, but if Sokka tried hard enough maybe he could memorize the way Zuko looked in that robe. “You always let her draw you in the nude?” 

“I thought you would be out later,” Zuko flushed. 

“Hoping I wouldn’t see you?” 

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Zuko changed the subject. He kept his robe tightly wrapped as he took a seat in the overstuffed chair. 

“I’m a man of many talents,” Sokka said airly, though he subtly eyed the way the silk stretched taut across hard muscle. 

“I don’t really know that much about you at all.” 

“What do you mean?” Sokka looked over at Zuko. He was an open book as far as most things went. 

“I told you one of my biggest childhood traumas and I don’t even know your favorite food,” Zuko shrugged. He brushed a few strands of hair behind his shoulder, looking at Sokka with probing eyes. 

“Do you want to play twenty questions?” Sokka couldn’t help but be a little glib, though it dawned on him he had been so intent on unraveling the mystery that was his roommate he might have neglected a few basics about himself. 

Zuko made a face, “Or you could tell me about yourself.” 

“What if I answered a question and then you answered it.” 

“First tell me a bit about yourself.” 

“Isn’t the question game the point of that?” 

“What was your childhood like?” 

“What was _your_ childhood like?” Sokka fired back. He propped an elbow on the arm of the couch, regarding Zuko with a rather playful expression. 

“You first,” Zuko held firm.

So Sokka told him. He talked about the small town he had come from, how his mother had fallen ill, how his father joined the army to provide for his children and was sent away, how his grandmother raised him and Katara. He talked about sledding and fishing and ice-skating, how he and Katara grew up too fast, trying to take on the responsibilities of their parents. He told Zuko about studying hard for university entrance exams because Sokka knew they couldn’t afford to send him to college unless he received scholarships. When he was done he looked over at Zuko, and was struck by the expression on the other man’s face. It was soft, a bit sad, and a little longing. Sokka had planned a joke about _ten-minute-life-story_ but the quip vanished as he took in Zuko’s expression, and all he could manage was, “Yeah, that about sums it up.” 

Sokka shifted under Zuko’s gaze, “Your turn,” he managed after it seemed Zuko wasn’t going to speak. 

Zuko hesitated a moment, “About your mother-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sokka interrupted him, “It was a long time ago.” 

“Don’t bullshit me. I-” Zuko fought to find the right words as Sokka stared rather agape at him, “I lost my mother too. It’s not the same as what you went through, but it’s not something you just move on from. You don’t have to be strong for me. I know what it’s like.” 

Sokka frowned, that’s exactly what he had done. Sure he missed her, but it was best not to think because then he didn’t have to remember. “Hey, I don’t know when you suddenly turned into my therapist, but I don’t think you have any room to talk, mister.” Sokka pointed out, thinking of how getting any information out of Zuko was like pulling teeth. 

“I talk to you,” Zuko said simply. 

Sokka felt his mouth run dry as Zuko’s eyes met his. He swallowed, this was edging itself into dangerous territory, and it felt weird realizing he wasn’t in control. Sure, Sokka could leave at any moment, end the conversation, but it wouldn’t change the fact Zuko had asked about him, pulled back the layer of bravado and called him out on the line that had worked on everyone else in Sokka’s life. It wasn’t right, sitting there, covered in red silk and bathed in the last vestiges of afternoon sun, Zuko was undeniably in control of the situation, and Sokka realized not for the first time, but perhaps acknowledging the truth in it, that he was falling for his roommate. 

“What’s your favorite play? You like theatre, right?” Sokka tried to salvage the situation. He breathed a sigh of relief as Zuko’s gaze dropped some of its intensity, and Zuko admitted, “Love Amongst the Dragons.” 

Sokka grinned, “I saw your show poster of it. How’d you get one?” 

“I was in it. What’s your favorite book?” 

“Hey, I’m asking you a question!” 

“You are not turning this back on me, Sokka. What’s your favorite book?” 

Sokka crossed his arms in mock frustration as he thought, “I have a few.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!! It really makes my day. <3


End file.
